The air always smelled like cigarettes
And burnt denim,
Ripped and frayed
sitting on sharp hips
Tipped with attitude.

Our palms, always the color of dirt
Pressed against green glass
As we tipped,
laughed throatily at
The burn in our chests.

Our smiles always shined
Glossed lips turned up
With naive knowing
Sure shoulder shrugs
To hide the blush
Of falling behind.

Our voices were always loud
Looong syllables
Sang with solemn vows
Of seeing all our promises
Through to the end
Never bending
Against the break of the world.

Our sight was always far
Squinting at the sun-soaked unseen
Flicking cigarette butts
With perfect aim,
Watching the red smoulder
Flippant with the thought
That we would be the same,
never going out.

it's 3am in the morning,
look at you, you're right by my side
in this unknown place
20 miles from home.

we're alone together at backyard
its 60F outside
it's cold, but you keep me warm
your hug and smile keep me warm

cigarettes in our mouth
smoke in our lungs
laughing with no reasons
you made me feel like i'm the luckiest

sitting on the couch,
with your brother next room
we sing, tell jokes
until our laugh turned into a kiss

we kiss in the cold, slowly
the taste of sweet cigarettes
and our eyes closed
we looked into the mirror,
"we look good together"

until the morning comes,
we looked into each other eyes
i thought i love you,
and you did too.
but were not

we admit we want each other
we want to stay close
but were to afraid to leave or lose each other
after all were just teenagers,
who needs accompany

Me and the guys were cool and cruising,
in my mate Robin's new car.

The cops had slapped a defect notice on it,
and so it was decided we wouldn't venture far.

With Robin at the wheel and I alongside in front,
we headed via back-roads out to an old dirt track.

There was Dale and Steve and Joe and Andy,
and they were all squashed up in the back.

Six teenage boys intent on adventure,
when we finally found dirt road to suit.

I can't recall whose idea it was but Joe and Andy,
were encouraged to climb out onto the boot.

Robin kicked the throttle the car springing off its mark,
fish tailing and raising clouds of dust as it sped upon its way.

I could hear the sound of Joe and Andy screaming,
but I couldn't make out what they were trying to say.

Now some way down the road yells and laughter,
still coming from the guys riding out on the back.

Robin saw the road had been washed away,
a two foot ravine cutting right across the track.

Robin reacted swiftly and stomped hard upon the brake,
I expected to see a cloud of dust but clear as day instead,

Was the startled face of Andy as he did a springing handstand,
from the hood to a perfect landing twenty yards ahead.

Now Joe was a considerably bigger guy,
and depressed indent of roof gave me several tips.

Until Joe slid out onto the windscreen,
giving a human impression of a daytime partial eclipse.

Two thoughts forever are stuck with me ever since that day,
would we have laughed so hard if Robin missed timed the pedal,

But the other one that really haunts and  plagues my mind,
Could Andy's stunt have won him an Olympic gold medal.

Me.
I am creative
Colorful
Crying.
I’m a nobody.
I don’t exist.
I’m trapped behind a  wall of glass
That hides me from the world.
But that’s all I’ll ever be.
Just
Me.

I lost my hope in finding true love,
Till you came just like a miracle from above.
You’ve got everything I’ve been praying for,
I hope when I fall I won’t end up on the floor.

You’ve been hurt and abandoned,
But trying to take care of you better than enchanted.
I’ll keep you away from this cruel world,
Safe and warm at my arms you’ll be curled.

I know I'm not that good looking,
And you have a face that makes their heads turning.
But I can always make you happy,
We’ll forget every problem that’s just so ******.

I get so lost by looking at your eyes,
Kiss my lips and you’ll hear no lies.
I want to spend my future with you,
Wake up every morning with a coffee that’s freshly brew.

I’ll stay with you until the very end,
Because baby with you I’m more than contented.
Let’s catch the last train at night,
Run away with me at every green light.

A mother ignoring the cry of her baby.
A wife in a mans gear.
Heavy pan of pain, ignored to the smile from the smell of a paper.
Respect lost, control in hands of currency weight.

A lonely woman
With no dream or ambition.
The gift of child birth ,
Now the token of burden and regret.

Love painted in hate.
Smile cloaked in anger.
Subject to his satisfaction at night
Bearer of his weakness in the day

A girl deceived by love
now a mother stretched to the core
The love for lust
Backwashed in a pain that last

Memories are a reflection of the present
Caged by the decision to love
Chained to his lax
Hope of smile ... a matter of course

We talk in emojis
21st century style you know
Our conversation wraps
A few moments past dawn

He reports every second on the gram
Almost as if that’s his beau
Before exchanging good morning texts
He says Insta Fam hello  

And when we do get intimate
It just doesn’t feel right  
He goes on to publish
She’s my Aphrodite

Oh I want to be teleported
To the age of billet doux
Just two love birds
On a hilltop with a great view

So on a fine Monday morning
I told him what I really want
He said it much like a warning
That the Stone Age is long gone.

Two men
Strung to the poles
Bedazzled in love

A girl
At the apex
Stringing them along

A classic triangle
Hopeless romance of sorts.

They meet on the decision day
Under the cherry blossoms
The girl having made her mind

said,

“No thanks I like my triangles with crust, marinara, and mozzarella spread.”

It's never clear to me where the dreams begin and
where the memories begin
but I know they both begin
to make sense after the first dozen times and
then once they make sense they cease to be interesting and
begin to bore me and
so I focus on waking up to both and
setting both feet on the cold stone floor where the **** and
the puke has already dripped through the cracks left
by the dance leaving a dry yellow stain just so
I know for sure I'm home and
not still in the in-between domain. And
I try to recall the detail but fail again,
so I start a new story where I'm the hero and
not a victim this time and
where there's no need for heroes cos everyone is in
a cooperative mood which makes me mad
- what's the point of a hero when
there's no heroism called for
- which makes me wonder who
called me here at this time of the night
when crows and bulldogs are the only ones awake and
are the only creatures who care about the size of the moon, oh and
me of course, so what's
that make me? some cross between a black arts symbol and
a patriot looking for a fight to justify the distrust and
anger I feel about the world

- blast and ******, I need a *** and
I need to puke so I lay back down, curl into my fetal and
let nature do it's worse. The warmth soothes me at first, but
soon enough the chill takes hold and
I wonder when mum will come and
tell me it's time for school.

The answer is exactly 30 seconds later and
as usual she notices nothing,
so imagination it is then
- not such a blessing then,
despite what the teacher said.